


You've Earned It

by BekiBi



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Smut, Praise Kink, Sticky, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Tender Sex, sensitive starscream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 11:23:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18991675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BekiBi/pseuds/BekiBi
Summary: In which Ratchet gives Starscream everything he deserves since leaving the cons to do right by Cybertron.AU idea inspired by info given from the commissioner of this story! <3Lots of TLC for Starscream.





	You've Earned It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [radflannel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/radflannel/gifts).



“No! You didn’t!” Ratchet exclaimed in jovial disbelief. He jumped up from his bench, nearly stumbling over himself, as he responded to the information that had come over his comm. “There’s no way! Don’t move, I’m coming to you!” He rushed out of his private lab, shins banging against his bench and cursing to himself as he staggered the rest of the way to the door. Ratchet grabbed the doorframe and swung himself out into the hall and tried to jog as professionally as he could toward Starscream’s secluded work space.

The halls were mostly empty since most of the Autobot team was back on Cybertron helping with restoration, and the bots that were present in this new base had no business in the designated medical and science halls. Still, the old medic didn’t want to lose face for practically skipping toward his destination.

When Ratchet keyed into the other’s room and the door slid away he was greeted with silver wings facing him. The long, slim wings were fanned out wide and framed the arching back of the seeker as he was mid-stretch, arms raised above his helm with his right bent at the elbow to hold the other up. The jet finished his stretch, arms dropping down to slap his hands onto the table before him. He turned to look over at Ratchet, sitting back from his cluttered work space to toss a grin his way.

“See it and believe it,” Starscream grabbed up his handiwork: a sealed cylinder full of green, glowing liquid.

The medic carefully took it from the other’s still very long claws to examine it for himself. “Funny, I thought it would have been… different, somehow.”

“Different how? You mean that it would _work_ unlike your previous ghastly brew? If that’s the case then it is different, as my serum most certainly works,” Starscream declared proudly and let pride radiate through his field. Ratchet disregarded the typical rude overtones of the jet’s words and moved around Starscream to examine the datapads and the findings the other had accumulated.

“It all looks… wow, I… Starscream, you’re a genius!” He beamed and continued to flip through all of the information that was well kept and even up to Ratchet’s standards. “You’ve actually done it, I just-! Wow! WOW!” The lack of showboating and preening coming from his assistant drew him out of his haze of wonderment for a moment and he looked to the now oddly silent jet.

Starscream had his lips drawn tight and was looking to his workspace with a less than happy expression, optics honed in on where the Autobot medic had taken his research filled pads. His field wasn’t prideful anymore; it was uncertain and withdrawn instead. The medic’s heavy and gentle hand on his shoulder made him jump and look up to him.

“You did good, Starscream. What’s the matter?” Flustered Starscream shook his head, snapping out of his daze.

“Of course I ‘did good’,” he sneered. “I’ve done what you thought to be impossible, I’m the best there is.” He straightened up as he built himself back up with his own words. Ratchet had known the seeker long enough to spot his abnormal patterns in mood and motivation along with subtle insults to others around him. They were all part of a myriad of self-defense, deflection and retaliation for potential insults and demeaning comments, real or imagined. This was no different, but Ratchet couldn’t grasp _why_ the other was feeling the need to deflect in this situation.

“You did more than good,” the medic smiled and was glad that his hand hadn’t been swatted away yet. “You’ve done amazing. I’m so grateful to you, and many others will be. Unknown numbers of our people we have yet to meet will have you to thank for this.” Instead of a nod of acceptance or even a smile, Starscream looked away and held his venting. His fingers were clenching near his lap and Ratchet tilted his helm. “Starscream,” he began softly, wanting to go into this unusual behavior.

“I’m fine,” he snapped quickly. “You’re welcome, alright? Now go re-test it and confirm all my findings like I know you intend to. Don’t coddle me!” The Decepticon Commander-turned-Autobot-chemist pulled back from him. Ratchet set the cylinder down on the work bench to quickly catch Starscream’s arms and force him to hold still.

“Starscream, what are you upset about? I don’t understand-”

“I’m not upset!” He pulled harder to escape and Ratchet moved with him, both on their pedes and Starscream suddenly backed into his own work bench with the shorter, though much broader, bot pinning him there.

“You are, and I wish you weren’t.” He kept his tone surprisingly gentle. Starscream swallowed thickly and turned his face completely away, looking to the side and looking pained. “Starscream… do you think I’m leading you on? Is this.. because you don’t think I’m really sincerely grateful?” The jet’s hunching shoulders all but confirmed his suspicion. Ratchet had to change that. He hummed and stepped back, still holding onto the other’s arms. He carefully tried to lead him away from his workspace.

“What are you doing??” He asked with growing suspicion as the Autobot medic walked backwards slowly.

“Let’s get out of here. Will you come with me?” He released one of Starscream’s arms, not wanting to drag him away or make him feel forced, but he didn’t want to hear a no. Considering his request and looking back to the left-behind synthetic Energon he nodded. The medic seemed to really want to do something he just didn’t know what he was up to.

Ratchet released Starscream’s other arm and let the jet walk freely behind him. He took the path back to his lab at a much slower rate than he’d gone to Starscream’s. The silence stretched on between them but neither seemed to mind that their pedes hitting the floor was the only sound for now. Once at the Autobot’s lab he stepped aside for Starscream, sealing the door after he entered. “Have a seat,” he motioned to the medical berth and went to his console to start bringing files up.

It took several minutes of getting things in order and he turned around to see the slab still empty, Starscream standing beside it with his arms folded across his chest.

“… I’m not going to ask you again,” his tone carried his signature annoyance and the jet tisked, complying and stepping to the berth and hopping his backside up onto it to sit.

“You didn’t ‘ask’ at all, you demanded,” the jet retorted lowly but the medic only gave an unimpressed ‘pah’ and brought a datapad with him. He pulled up a rolling stool he’d made himself and sat on it before the jet.

“When was the last time you were examined?”

“Pardon?!” Wings jumped high. Ratchet raised his bright blue optics to the former Decepticon’s burning vermilion.

“When was the last time you had a medical evaluation? I recall a short time after you had first come to our care, but that was decades back and several bases ago. With all the shifting and what few medical personnel we’ve come across, I don’t think you’ve been seen have you?”

“There’s no need,” he growled in warning. “I’m in perfect condition! Tip top!” He was practically spitting at him in his aggressively defensive mood.

“I should hope so. I’d like to confirm that for both of our sakes.” Ratchet stood up and brought out the datapad’s link cord. “Open your medical port, please.” Starscream scowled at the medic a moment longer and cursed under his breath, allowing his forearm’s medical port to pop open. Ratchet plugged in gently and hummed. “Alright… so far everything looks… hm,” he leaned in a little to the datapad, rubbing his chin with his free hand.

Starscream glanced from his port, to the back of the pad, then the medic’s face. “What?? What is it???” He didn’t like that little gleam of concern or how he didn’t outright say what was unusual.

“Ah, its as I suspected.” Ratchet sighed and started to disconnect the cord.

“What?! Out with it!!” He was all but in a panic now.

“You’re health is better than it was when you first arrived by tenfold.” There was a confused and silent stare from the bitter patient as Ratchet yanked the plug out of the medical port and turned a stern, annoyed gaze up to the jet. “So that means there’s NO REASON for you to be acting the way you are due to any physical ailments. It must be an emotional response.” Ratchet walked away from the embarrassed and stunned seeker. “Starscream, I don’t have the most vast expertise in… mental health,” he began carefully. “All I can do is speak honestly and openly to you and hope you’ll take my words under consideration, and at face value.”

“Shut up,” he started to get up from the berth, irritated. “I can’t believe you would bring me all the way here just to try and get a rise out of me!”

“I didn’t, I did this because I’m concerned, Starscream.”

“Of course you are! I just cracked the code on your precious synthetic Energon crisis and you don’t know if you’ll be able to decipher my notes, you think I must be up to something! I must have encrypted them! So you’re going to STEAL all of MY HARD WORK-!!”

“Starscream!!” Ratchet couldn’t believe how rapidly the other was unraveling and laying out all of his paranoia like this. He stormed around to the other and grabbed him by his waist to stop him from running out of the door. He couldn’t have the other out there in such a state and potentially take his anger out on a rare passerby. For his efforts to restrain the other he received a sharp elbow to the helm and everything went fuzzy and then blinked into black.

His audio feed was the first thing to return, the ringing fading and allowing panicked apologies to come flooding in. His basic directional gyroscope kicked in and he knew he was being moved onto his back. He could then feel hands on his legs, lifting them onto the table. He heard Starscream’s heels clacking about in the lab as he ran around, frantically muttering to himself and trying to work out what to do and how to get the other online again.

Ratchet growled low and forced a boot-up sequence to run. He was only half calibrated and sat bolt upright, arms swinging out and grabbing the jet about the waist as he was coming by again and rolled, slamming him onto the berth and pinning him there. “RATCHET WHAT IN THE--!!”

“What are you thinking?! Assaulting a superior officer?!”

“I’m not your subordinate!!” The seeker hissed in equal fury, reaching up to grab he other’s shoulders and try to push him off. “You’re pinching my wings, get off of me!”

“Only when you calm down and apologize! I won’t tolerate that sort of behavior, not from you! Not anymore!”

“You STARTED it! You drag me down here to mock me and then GRABBED ME-”

“You were on a TANGENT!” Ratchet countered. “You will NOT go back to your old self, Starscream, you’re BETTER THAN THAT!” He snarled down at the other and everything seemed to stop. The yelling, the struggling, the pointed glares.

“You don’t know that,” Starscream tested him, optics narrowed and distrusting, still defiant.

“I DO,” the medic gruffly countered. “You’ve proven yourself to be a true asset here, Starscream. You’ve worked so hard to distance yourself from your ‘con ways, from Megatron and all of that. You’re the most cunning mech here, you’re clever and witty, and your mind is something many a scientist would envy. You’re able to tear down common theories and think so far out of the box that the best minds out there couldn’t even HOPE to catch up with you. Yet you act like you’re dumb enough to really think that I want to STEAL your synthetic code? Do you think _I’M_ stupid??”

Starscream’s venting had grown quicker as the other spoke, optics welling up and face contorting in refusal to believe the other. “Shut up,” he managed weakly.

“NO!” Ratchet scoffed with a cocked smirk, his heated argument a little more amused. “You are amazing, Starscream, and I am the LAST person that would want to see you fall. You deserve so much praise for what you’ve done! All of your work, your-your DEDICATION, I just want you to believe me for once! I want the best for you, I don’t want to see you fall or think lesser of yourself. Your mind is so BRIGHT and you just won’t look past your own self-depreciating views, the way Megatron treated you, and it infuriates me to no end!”

“Shut up!” The seeker shifted his hands from trying to push at Ratchet’s shoulders to around them, pulling him down and holding him tightly to himself. “Shut up.. you’re too much… I didn’t ask for your praise...”

Ratchet was still, listening and letting his own heightened emotions settle. He cleared his throat and began in a much softer, deeper tone to keep things deescalated. “I know you’re overwhelmed… just… try to believe some of what I said. You’re so smart, and _worthy_ of praise...” He could feel the jet trembling below him and he relaxed the tension he’d built up to try and relax the other. It only just dawned on him that Starscream was willingly hugging him close, possibly crying. He sighed and laid his head down on the other’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for grabbing you.” Perhaps giving some ground to the other by apologizing first would be a positive step forward.

“… Thank you,” the jet mumbled into his chest. “I’m… sorry my elbow hit you. It wasn’t intentional, I… panicked.”

“Hm, you certainly did,” he chuckled. “You really had me reboot from that you know.” Starscream gave a short, sad sounding laugh.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He patted his shoulder and laughed more. “Had I known the great and mighty CMO Ratchet had a jaw made of _glass_ ,” he began sarcastically and Ratchet pulled himself up to scoff down at him.

“Glass?? Really????” He threw his head back and laughed, his helm turning back down to smile at the cocky bird. “Those are some bold words you know.” Starscream was grinning but it faded, optics soft and thoughtful. Ratchet’s own smile softened and he was gaining some concern. He was about to ask what was wrong when he felt those arms pull him down again, his lips connecting to the other’s.

He was tense at first and pulled right back, elbows on the table above Starscream’s shoulders and staring with wide blue optics. So many questions and uncertainties were flying through his processor, but they all landed back on the alarming realization that this finicky once-Decepticon Commander had pulled him into a kiss and was still under him, red optics pleasantly glowing up with a content energy about him.

After the initial shock of being kissed Ratchet settled into the feeling of it seeming right. He’d worked so closely with him since he came to the Autobots seeking sanctuary and they’d shared many hardships through their journey to a better post-war world. They shared things in confidence and now he was adamantly telling him how great he thought Starscream was, whether it was fact or just Ratchet’s opinion seemed unclear, but it was all from his spark and how he truly felt. ‘Give in,’ he told himself. ‘Just give in to this.’

Closing his optics he leaned down and closed the gap between them again, drawing Starscream into a much deeper kiss, tilting the other’s helm to properly have him open his intake to it. Their glossa came together at the same time as well, pressing together and sliding past one another. Ratchet tasted something that made his spark pulse harder for a beat and he moved back, optics wide. “Starscream-! Did you TRY that energon?!”

Starscream tensed and gave a guilty, impish smirk. “Well I couldn’t possibly peddle my wares without sampling them first?” Ratchet growled, though he was clearly amused, and caught the jet’s chin to make sure he didn’t look away.

“That was very reckless of you,” he chided and gave him another short but firm kiss, parting from him with a little suckle to his lower lip. Starscream hummed and smirked more, claws beginning to slide over the Autobot’s shoulders and back, rubbing those tips against his thick armor.

“It was a calculated risk, and you’re a testament to my brilliant risk-taking.”

“How is that?” Ratchet arched a brow and shifted his legs to get more comfortable, settling one between Starscream’s.

“I took a risk in kissing you, and you haven’t reacted negatively. So...” He shrugged.

“Hm. Well you’ve certainly got me there.” He leaned in and kissed him again, letting it last and delve deeper. Starscream reacted in kind and held his medic just a little bit tighter. Ratchet moved his weight to his knees and one arm, almost cradling the top of Star’s helm so his free hand could cup his face, and slide down his delicate neck briefly and onto his chest, palm flattening over it and caressing over the slightly uneven spot where the Decepticon badge once resided.

Starscream made a soft, almost whimpering, type of noise. He hummed and arched his chest out slightly, encouraging more of his touches. Ratchet moved his servos lower, tracing the seams just above Starscream’s cockpit. He pressed in more and the seeker gasped, letting on that it was a sensitive spot and the medic began a relentless pursuit to earn even more sweet sounds from him. He found more pressure points around his cockpit and transformation seams, then moved further down toward the jet’s pelvic plating.

One of Starscream’s hands shot down to grab hold of the medic’s and they both paused, derma parting so they could move back enough to look at one another in the optics. A look of fearfulness crossed over the jet’s field, a very obvious look of uncertainty that made Ratchet’s spark twist.

“Starscream… you’re spectacular. Do you know that?” Heat bloomed over Starscream’s face and he stammered, looking away and trying to rebuff that statement. “You’re so strong. You’ve changed for the better. SO much better, and you did it for yourself and no one else. That’s… really strong. Did you know that?” The jet bit his lip and gazed up at the other, not wanting to ruin it by denying the other’s view or sound cocky by agreeing. “Even if you don’t believe it now, I’ll keep telling you every single day until you accept that.”

He leaned in and kissed him in small, playful pecks, short and sweet, and then moved onto his neck and let his glossa press against his pliant plating and suckled when it withdrew. Starscream sighed again and tilted his helm back, exposing more of his neck to him. His hand returned to Starscream’s pelvic plating full force, digits spreading and searching seams with more fervor. The moan that the lithe mech let out made Ratchet’s core flare with excitement, fans kicking on loudly and earning an amused chuckle from the bird below him.

“Are you laughing at me?” Ratchet practically growled into the seeker’s neck, still very much interested in continuing the current course.

“Hmhm, perhaps… Wouldn’t want you to overheat, now, would we?” That earned an indignant scoff from the ambulance, who sat back to fully display his surprise and annoyance at such a statement.

“Overheat??? What do you take me for?”

“Well, it’s just that you’re so _old_ ,” Starscream touched over Ratchet’s chest plates to trace little patterns with his claws. Ratchet waited to hear the punchline to the joke but there wasn’t one. Starscream’s actual belief that the medic’s age was a hindrance was insulting but absolutely unintentional.

“Starscream, y-YOU are-I cannot,” he shook his helm and sat back to laugh. “You’re so CATTY!”

“Catty?! Well aren’t we a rude one today!” He pouted at the other but Ratchet kept on grinning.

“I’m almost positive you may be older than _me_ ,” the medic contended. That got the jet’s wings hiked high and pointed. “That’s not to say you’re any less beautiful or capable.”

Starscream squirmed and his wings tucked back down, turning his helm to not look at the other. “Your attempts at flattery are desperate and sad,” he snarked. Ratchet only revved his engine and lowered his body more onto the other, letting their torsos touch and feed of off the heat the other’s gave off.

“But they’re working?” Blue optics focused on red, and when Starscream finally looked back up and they shared a long quiet gaze with one another. They both moved at the same time, pressing lips roughly into the other. Starscream’s panel opened shamelessly for the skilled fingers pressing against it. When blunt digits slipped between the folds of Starscream’s valve and stroked from bottom to top he sucked in a breath, legs spreading wide and heels digging into the berth below him.

“Ah-! Ratchet,” he whined, hips circling upward to try and get more from those teasing hands.

“You’re suddenly so _amicable_ ,” Ratchet teased and crooked his digits inward, pressing two fingers deeper inside of Starscream’s valve.

“OH Primus-!!” Claws flew up to hold tightly to the grounder’s broad arms, his calipers squeezing down in response to his sensitive inner nodes being lit up.

“The name’s Ratchet,” the Autobot medic chuckled and even more so when Starscream smacked his chest. “I had no idea you were so cute, Star?” He began to pump his digits languidly in and out of the seeker, making him whine, “You’re beautiful all the time, but especially cute when you don’t know what to say.”

“Y-you saying you want me quiet??” The bird tried to sound irritated but it was hard to give off attitude when he was happily huffing and puffing and arching his back.

"I’m saying I love it when you’re caught up in these feelings. You deserve pleasure. You deserve happiness, to feel good after so long of trying to redeem yourself.” Ratchet moved his fingers faster in and out of Starscream, his other hand cradling the back of Starscream’s helm, angling it so he could nibble at his fuel lines.

“Hnn~! Ratchet, stop s-sweet talking me,” he whined and tried to bring his knees up and together but nothing could block out those fantastic hands and the waves of pleasure being jolted through his valve. “HN! RATCHET!” He bucked his hips and his charge began to overflow, their armor sparking against one another.

“There you go, just enjoy the ride.” Ratchet’s thumb rubbed against Starscream’s exterior node and the jet cried out, claws biting into armor as he overloaded from the expert hand-service alone. Lubricant oozed out around Ratchet’s stilled fingers, calipers clenching sporadically as Starscream rode out his orgasm. “That was pretty good, Star. I’m impressed you’re able to keep up at your age.”

The former Decepticon snarled and pushed at Ratchet’s face to get him away. “Don’t say that! I’m NOT that old!”

“Then you won’t mind if I put you through more challenging paces?” Ratchet pulled his hand away from the other’s clenching valve, shifting his legs so both were now between the seeker’s, spike now free and pressurized fully. Starscream growled and accepted the challenge, shifting into a more comfortable position on his back.

“Do your worst, pathetic Autobot,” Starscream snuffed in faux challenge, which Ratchet accepted gladly and nudged the tip of his cord against the other’s port.

“Autobots only give their _best_.” Ratchet pivoted his hips forward, sliding into the jet below him. The way Starscream gasped and writhed, his loud fans and eager whining made the medic beam with pride. “There, there’s that gorgeous reaction.” He started a swift, unrelenting pace of snapping his hips forward and back with no break in between. “I wish you could see what I see, you pretty little thing.”

“Hng-! R-Ratchet, ah-!” He held tight to the broader mech, the power behind his thrusts causing his body to bounce and he had to keep a firm hold lest he be pushed too far up. “You try to flatter me? Hm? Use your skills instead of your mouth-!” Ratchet responded by bucking harder, tucking his knees further under the other’s thighs and pinning him in a tighter spot. The jet practically squealed from the transition into a sharper, deeper angle. His legs were pushed up on either side of the ambulance’s perfectly sized hips and each time the Autobot hit home it sent sparks behind Starscream’s eyes. “OH! RATCHET!!”

“That’s it, say my name,” the medic sounded almost possessive and Starscream couldn’t deny himself how much he loved such a gruff tone used toward him.

“Ratchet!” He gasped out for the other, earning the deep thrust he was given, that thick ivory and rust colored spike pressing deep as it could and grinding into his over sensitive nodes, making him arch and twist every which way. He couldn’t escape the pleasure being driven into him, nearly crying when Ratchet repeated the slow withdrawal and hard stroke back in, pushing their pelvic spans together so roughly it was setting off the seeker’s exterior node.

“I love hearing you enjoy yourself. You like this don’t you?” Ratchet stole a brief kiss, glad it was short when Starscream snapped his teeth at him.

“Yes! Yes I do! Don’t torture me! F-Frag me! Just – ahn~! Don’t slow down, I need more-!” He insisted, sounding desperate. Ratchet evened out his pace but didn’t lessen the intensity in which he moved his spike fully into the other. Each thrust made Starscream grunt or moan and twitch and grab for the other and it was a beautiful sight. When the jet finally seemed to relax and babble in whispers, just empty pleas for the other not to stop, did Ratchet go all out.

He sat back and grabbed the seeker’s hips, locking him in place and pounded into him with everything he had. Starscream threw his helm back and his claws sank into Ratchet’s knees below his hips, holding on for all he was worth as he was driven into.

“YES! RATCHET YES! PLEASE! PLEASE-Y-YESSSS!!” The Autobot grunted and hissed through his teeth, taking the pain the other rewarded him with and driving onward, hitting that sweet spot in his partner with his fat spike perfectly every single time. He was rewarded with the most delicious sounding keens, the sweetest cries of his name and that slick valve swallowing him greedily over and over.

“Starscream, so… perfect… yes!” Ratchet lurched forward, balance tipping and sending him over the jet, pressing their fronts together and curling his body around the other, releasing his transfluid deep into the former ‘con with a satisfied deep groan. It pulsed out of his spike in hard, thick spurts and filled up Starscream until it seeped out of his port. They stayed still for a long moment, one’s hips occasionally giving a twitch or small jerk and the other reacting in turn until they eased into a more relaxed missionary position.

Ratchet gave lazy little kisses along Starscream’s neck and jaw, arms on either side of the seeker’s helm to hold up some of his weight. He finally lifted his helm enough to look into Starscream’s optics, pleased to see the other was in an equally pleasure-filled haze.

“As always,” he grinned, “you did amazing, Starscream.” The jet gave a hoarse chuckle and slid his claws up Ratchet’s sides, stroking him gently and working his hips around just enough to feel that spike still resting inside him. He clenched his calipers down and watched how the medic gasped and grit his denta, then groaned in over-taxed delight at how good it felt.

“I didn’t say you could stop,” he growled. Ratchet smirked and nodded, easily pressurizing again.

“Only the best for the best, I suppose.” He was a little surprised at how flustered Starscream looked. He really had a hard time taking compliments, even like this, but he’d continue to work on it.

“S-stop with the flattery and spike me.”

“How about both, gorgerous?” Ratchet slyly arched his brow and pulled his spike back.

“Ratchet you-OH!” He jumped and his arms scrabbled about, hugging onto the medic in embarrassment when that fantastic spike took him once again.

“You just keep practicing my name then, and I’ll keep listing off everything I like about you.” He started a firm, loving pace, easing out of Starscream and rushing back in to fill him up.

“Nnng you’re teasing me~!” Starscream tried to whine.

“Only giving you what you deserve. Some proper care and respect.” The medic growled and stole Starscream’s argument away with a deep kiss to match the loving, intentionally deep roll of his hips. The piercing claws on his armor were worth every little whimper he wrung from the pretty seeker he’d captured so long ago.


End file.
